


Jake English: Monster Hunter

by ceisadilla



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceisadilla/pseuds/ceisadilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake English learned everything he knows from his Grandma; how to tell the best stories, how to make the best pumpkin pie, and how to destroy the monsters that he shares his island home with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jake English: Monster Hunter

Grandma used to tell the most fantastic stories, with the most terrible creatures. Gargantuan, multiple-armed sea creatures which could destroy a race with a single word, skeletal demons with the power to manipulate time and space to eradicate any life they found. In Grandma’s stories, even creatures which externally were not to be feared, such as a simple pet dog, could harness a frightening power. Grandma’s stories would cause Jake to pull the covers up over his mouth and nose with fear, only his wide verdant eyes and tousled black hair visible to the old woman as she spun her tales, each one weaving a glorious tapestry of a fantasy world, as a good story should.

Jake learned many lessons from his Grandma, but two important lessons stood out to him. The first of those lessons was a reassuring one; no matter how evil, vicious, sly or powerful a beast may be, a hero could always destroy it. The second was one he learned at the age of nine; monsters were most certainly not confined to Grandma’s stories.

 

That day played through Jake’s mind as he trekked through the woods. How long had it been since he had first seen a beast? A decade or so? It had flown by.  The scent of damp, rotting leaves hung in the air, infiltrating his lungs as it had that day, so many years ago. Jake took a quick look around him, and stopped in his tracks, pausing to listen for any slight sound. Nothing. He continued onwards. His Grandma’s old rifle was slung over his back, his own Beretta’s in twin holsters attached to his belt. The forest was dense, and the sparse sunlight which had managed to seep through the thick foliage had died quite some time ago. Looking up to the sky, all the young man could see was inky darkness. In Grandma’s stories, the scariest monsters were most active at the full moon. Another lesson; sometimes, Grandma’s stories are bullshit. Monsters of all kinds couldn’t give a solitary fuck about the lunar cycle. When he was a boy, Jake feared the full moon, and the terrors it unleashed. Now he feared the new moon. A new moon meant even less light, and when you were in a forest this dense, on a night without the light of the moon, much like tonight, you didn’t have much chance against the darkness. Jake cast his eyes down, and found that he could hardly see his feet. It was probably time to stop for the night.

 

He’d stayed out too late that day, he recalled.  Grandma had asked him to go and pick some brambles from the bushes that grew just beyond the boundaries of the woods in front of their cottage. Of course, Jake wandered off too far. Those sharp emerald eyes of his caught sight of something deeper in the woods, and the little adventurer couldn’t contain himself. His small fingers, stained and sticky from the tart berries he had eaten, tightened around the wicker handle of the small basket, and his legs quickly carried him off after that glimmer he had seen in the distance.

Years in the future, Jake English would retrace the path he took that day, armed to his slightly too large teeth, but on his first outing into the forest, he was unarmed, and very vulnerable.

He followed his sighting, which seemed to be moving away slowly, leading him somewhere. A grin grew across his tanned face as he got closer to what was revealed to be a floating orb of soft white light, mysterious, beautiful, and anything but sinister. Grandma always said to never go into the forest, and to avoid anything he saw, but this orb was so pretty, and it’s gentle glow was so calming. How could it be wrong to go along with it? It hadn’t taken him far, after all.

 

His eyes were fixed on the orb, and in his negligence, he tripped over a tree root. The small boy fell, grazing his knees, and his outstretched hands, hissing at the sharp sting of torn skin. The ground around him illuminated. A soft constant hum could be heard above his head. Jake adjusted his askew glasses, and looked up. The orb hung over him, like a guardian angel. The smile returned to his face, and he picked himself up, hastily wiping the muck and grit from his hands and knees, which resulted in the thick mud smearing over his skin.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled, reassuring the orb. “It’s just a bit of a skinned knee, no need for worry!” The orb seemed to understand, as it began to float off again. However, it hadn’t gone more than 10 feet away, when suddenly, it let out another hum, louder this time, and simply vanished!

 

Jake let out a shocked cry, and rushed to where it had been. No sign of it remained. He looked around seeing nothing but dark trees, and… Another glow, straight ahead…

Excited, Jake went on, and only a few yards later, he found himself in a clearing. The glow had been the reflection of the moonlight in a woodland stream. He craned his neck to gaze at the stars. Night time? He’d been gone for longer than he thought. Grandma must be worried. He turned on his heels, and began to walk back to the trees, when he heard a noise behind him. A very faint noise; almost like breathing. Jake looked over his shoulder, and his curious eyes widened in horror.

 

From what had looked to be a shallow stream – but was now known to be a _very_ deep river, a goat’s head had surfaced. Pure white, its skull as large as Jake was tall, not including the huge horns which seemed to spiral into the sky. It gave a gruff snort, shaking it’s head, spraying water over the grass. It’s eyes were a vibrant purple, the strange pupils staring straight at the dark haired boy who was frozen in awe and terror at the sight of this giant creature.

 

It rose further out from the stagnant river, water rippling and rushing onto the grass as the goat-like beast placed a cloven hoof onto land with a thud, and a crunch of the crisp grass. It hadn’t risen to its full height, and already it was looming over Jake. Another hoof, and it began to drag the rest of its endless body from the water, the snow white fur receding around the area where the thing’s hind quarters should be. Its back legs were not present. In their place was a long tail, like that of a whale, though this monster was larger than any creature on this Earth that Jake had ever known of.

 

Fully emerged, it stood proudly, the tips of its horns at the same level as the tree tops.

“By jove,” Jake murmured in disbelief, staring at the monster as it stared back at him. “What in the name o-”

His words were cut off by an immense, earth trembling roar, and before he knew it, the creature descended upon him, mouth agape in a terrible scream.

 

His feet were like concrete blocks, rooting the boy in place in the pure terror that rushed through him.

He shut his eyes tightly, waiting for the beast to swallow him up. It’s hot breath was on his head, it’s cry surrounding him, tearing through him.

 

But the end didn’t come. A bang, barely heard over the beasts scream, rang out through the clearing, and the scream ended. There was a crash all around him, shaking the ground enough to make Jake’s knees buckle, but before he hit the ground again, something wrapped around his waist, pulling him up. He cried out in horror, kicking and screaming to get away, until he heard a soft, soothing voice in his ear; much more soothing than that stupid orb, which had already been forgotten. He opened his eyes, tears streaming down his face, blurring his vision, but despite the obstruction, he knew who it was.

“G-Grandma?” He choked through his tears.

The old woman nodded, holding him tightly to her, her bony fingers stroking his hair softly.

“It’s alright, dear,” she soothed. “It’s gone, it won’t hurt you now.” Jake rose his head, and wiped his eyes clumsily, before looking to the beast which lay sprawled in the clearing, purple blood pooling from its mouth, eyes glazed. Jake buried his head in his Grandma’s shoulder, clinging tightly to her blouse.

“I’m so sorry, Grandma,” he hiccoughed.

“No, Jake… I’m just glad you’re safe.” She picked up the rifle, and the wicker basket which Jake had dropped, contents strewn over the ground. “Let’s get you home. There’s a fresh pumpkin pie waiting for you.”

 

* * *

 

Jake frowned, running a tired hand through his dark hair. After that day, Grandma trained him to fight. She taught him how to use guns properly, and he fell in love with the weapons. She taught him survival skills, how to light a fire, which berries and mushrooms would kill him, how to catch rabbits, deer, various other animals, but most importantly, she taught him more about monsters. Those great white beasts lived throughout the forest, and their island, and not all of them were dangerous. Grandma sketched a few of them, indicating the friendly ones as a tiny winged bull, a centaur, and a peculiar beast which was half ram, half wallaby. Most, however, were vicious, and very hungry. The dual mouthed cat could be friendly, depending on the availability of food, but others which lived deeper in the woods, like the gargantuan spider, and of course, the sea goat, were terrible things, to be avoided at all costs.

 

As the 19 year old Jake delved deeper into the forest to look for a good clearing to settle in, he noticed the wind picking up, coursing through the trees, rustling leaves and chilling his legs; shorts were no good in the wind, but oh so suitable for the normal, tropical heat of the huge island. Not like he had another choice anyway; his trousers were all burned up, along with the house, some 4 years ago now.

 

The wind reminded him of the rare occasion that a vast shadow would swallow up the house, bringing strong gusts with it. Jake would look up to the skies, but Grandma would scoop him up, and take him to the house. On the day that Grandma taught him about the white creatures – ‘Lusii,’ as Grandma called them – he asked about the shadow. Grandma had chuckled, and sketched a picture of a great, winged dragon, with cone-like horns upon it’s mighty head.

“She is blind,” Grandma explained. “She sees by smelling, and tasting. That is why I would take you inside; if she cannot smell you, she will not descend.”

 

Jake looked up, but there was no silhouette blocking the night sky; the dragon was not in the skies tonight. He looked forward again, and saw a most peculiar thing: a soft glow, straight ahead. It was like the orb from so long ago, but different. He drew a pistol, and proceeded with caution. Many of the lusii were nocturnal, and although he knew they themselves did not glow, he always associated the light with them. God, he hoped it was a swarm of the winged bulls, or if it was dangerous, nothing that would need the rifle; he was low on ammunition.

 

He stepped into the clearing, pistol held out cautiously. The whole area was illuminated, but there was no sign of the source. He raised his head once more, scanning the trees; he knew the spider liked to lurk there, before dropping onto her prey. Nothing to be seen. Jake sighed, and unfastened his gunbelt, getting ready to settle for the night. There were a few trees in the clearing, and all seemed to be safe. He sat down, back firmly against the thick trunk. His eyes began to droop shut, before shooting open, his hand tightening on the handle of his gun as a soft laugh rang out through the clearing.

 

“You are a brave one, aren’t you?” A smooth, female voice asked from… above him? Jake scrambled to his feet, and scanned the heights of the tree, still seeing nothing!

“Who are you??” He demanded. “Show yourself!” He was answered by a sigh and a very soft thud from the other side of the tree. The glow was brighter now; whatever was talking to him was the likely source. Jake stayed still, waiting for whatever it was to reveal itself. His jaw was clenched, pistol once again extended, ready to fire if he needed to. Faint footsteps were heard. The glow got brighter. As it came to view, Jake raised his hand, shielding his eyes from the bright light.

“I won’t attack,” the voice assured him calmly. “The light is not to blind you, but so we can both see. You will adjust.”

As the maternal voice spoke the final few words, Jake found himself able to stand the light. He lowered his hand. Jake’s jaw fell open, and the pistol was lowered.

 

A woman stood before him, her skin as white, and as luminescent as the absent moon. From her carefully painted lips, to the flowing black and green dress which trailed behind her upon the forest floor, even to the tattooed patterns which decorated her arms and shoulders, she radiated not only light, but beauty. What took Jake’s attention the most though was her eyes, and the orange horns protruding from her long, glossy black hair. The sclera of her eyes was a bright yellow, with irises of jade green, and those horns… so peculiar; almost exactly the same as the horns of the strange, insectoid lusus. A gentle smile graced her face, revealing her teeth to be akin to those of a carnivore; pointed, with abnormally large canines.

“Wh-what are you?” Jake asked, eyes completely fixated upon this beautiful woman. Could she even be called a woman? After all, she was certainly not a human.

 

“I think ‘who’ is a more polite question than ‘what’,” she responded, altering his question. “I’m Porrim. And you would be?” Jake grimaced a little at not having his question answered, but he entertained Porrim.

“Jake. Jake English,” he introduced with a nod, and a grin. He’d always wanted to meet someone to introduce himself to, just to say his name like that, just like the spies in his favourite movies. All the movies were his favourites, all of them. Such a shame they’d been lost in the inferno. Porrim nodded a little, and took a step closer to him.

 

“You’ve never seen one of my kind before?” She asked him, head tilting slightly in her curiousity.

“Sure haven’t!” Jake exclaimed. “I thought you were a monster, like those bloody Lusii.” Porrim’s smile turned into a sour grimace.

“Monsters? The Lusii are not harmful. Not to us at the least. Did you harm the Mother Grub?” Her bright eyes flitted to the pistol in his hand accusingly.

“The mother grub?” He repeated. “What i- Oh, the one with your horns? No, it’s friendly!” The white skinned woman nodded once, returning her gaze to Jake, her smile returning as she drew closer still. Jake, normally cautious of anything he met ever since the incident with the sea goat, felt at ease. In fact, the only unease he felt about Porrim was the inability to conjure any sensible conversation, partially due to the fact that he had not spoken to another human for 4 years, but also due to the fact that, well, Porrim was a stunning being to behold.

 

“…Jake? Jake?”

“Yes?” He asked, startled.

“I asked you something, but you didn’t respond.” Jake internally cursed himself for being so distracted by, well, her. She giggled, eyes partially lidded. Had she moved closer again? Jake hadn’t noticed her move, but she was almost touching him.

“I’m sorry,” he grinned sheepishly. Porrim shrugged a little. “So, you live in the forest with the Lusus? Are there more of your kind here? Are you, well, human?”

“Human? No, I’m not. What I am doesn’t matter,” she told him, side stepping questions like a politician. Jake wasn’t sure what a politician was, but he’d heard Grandma use that phrase! He wondered if Grandma would have known what Porrim was. “Hungry?” Jake’s attention was caught again, and he nodded eagerly. He _was_ quite hungry, though he hadn’t noticed until now. “What a coincidence; dinner’s just arrived.”

 “It has?” He asked, turning his back on her to see what had happened by their clearing so late at night. A deer? Or perhaps something smaller? Jake looked around, but again, saw nothing. “What am I looking for?” His voice was quiet, so he didn’t scare it away. “Porrim?”

“Keep looking,” she assured him.

“Alright…” He squinted in the half light. Even with Porrim’s luminescence, it was difficult to see anything.

 

Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain struck the side of his neck. A warm hand gripped his hair, pulling his head back, and from the corner of his eye he saw her, fangs thrust into his neck, feeding hungrily.

He couldn’t shoot, not from that angle. Desperately, he fought the pain, and grasped her horn, violently tugging her from him. He felt his skin and flesh tear away in her mouth. A growl of pain rumbled from the man. Porrim stumbled back, and immediately went in to attack again. There was no hesitation this time though. Jake aimed and fired. A clean shot between the eyes.

Jade blood pumped from the vampire’s corpse as the light her body emitted faded away slowly, drenching the forest in inky darkness.

Cursing under his breath, Jake brought his hand to his neck. In her haste, she’d missed the artery. Still a bad wound, though. He knelt by her, and tore away part of her gown, using it to stem the bleeding.

Jake settled beneath the tree again, one hand gripping the fabric to his neck, the other holding his pistol at the ready.

 

He’d learnt a new lesson tonight: Trust no-one.


End file.
